


Double Dark

by eveljerome



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU from 3x06 Dolce, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Will Graham, Eventual Smut, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Italy AU, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, NaNoWriMo 2019, and instead travel to Rome, fic where they avoid getting caught by Mason Verger's guys, for some fun times of murder and good food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-18 18:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21281606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveljerome/pseuds/eveljerome
Summary: Murder Husbands taking a vacation of murder and good food in Italy.Seeing Hannibal in the gallery, sitting as if everything was fine and dandy, gripped at Will’s heart. As if a vice had wrapped around him and didn’t intend to let go. Thoughts of a repeat betrayal—perhaps a knife to Hannibal’s spine, perhaps a gun to his back, they all fled as if scattered to four ends of the world—leaving behind only longing.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. Take It All, And Take It Down

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a plot idea I've thought a lot about before - if Will was slightly more darker and liked 'em dead and elaborate: just look at what he did to Randall at the museum, and Chiyoh's prisoner - that was a hell of a butterfly, and it set a pattern of Will elevating dead bodies to art. This is the fic that ran with that idea, and I hope to write it out longer than a 1k plot bunny. 
> 
> edit: i sort of lost steam on this, and i hope to return to it one day, but at the moment it works as a short oneshot.

~~

Seeing Hannibal in the gallery, sitting as if everything was fine and dandy, gripped at Will’s heart. As if a vice had wrapped around him and didn’t intend to let go. Thoughts of a repeat betrayal—perhaps a knife to Hannibal’s spine, perhaps a gun to his back, they all fled as if scattered to four ends of the world—leaving behind only longing. 

And, yes, pinining, he wasn’t below to admit that. The mirage of Abigail helt the pining at bay, distracting him. But when he finally caught sight of the human-heart in the chapel, he had to face the reality he was in. Abigail was gone, but he was still pining after her murder. 

It wasn’t even an overly sexual pining—though there was enough of that too there—it was a feeling that if he could only be with Hannibal again everything would somehow be alright. The absence of Abigail would be overshadowed with presence of Hannibal.

He stopped at the doorway to the gallery.

Will expected Hannibal to be pristine, angry and mighty, like that night in the kitchen, full of hurt aimed at Will. He didn’t expect Hannibal to be as battered as himself. Even if the cause was Jack instead of face-planting onto train tracks. Chiyoh had knocked him over, yes, but her doing so only sent him all the more quicker towards Hannibal.

He sits.

Hannibal turns. They grin. 

“You and I have begun to blur.”

~~

Out in the piazza, the knife never leaves its place and Chiyoh never takes her shot.

~~

Will trails after Hannibal through the apartment, sliding a hand along the dark wood of the table in the room, picturing them sitting at an angle next to each other, dining together. Other, far more terrifying thoughts flit through Will’s mind.

Oh Hannibal eating him up, whole.

He can’t not picture Hannibal’s inevitable regret of that. They have changed each other too much to be separate from each other. They are one another, they overlap in spaces. Not as with Garreth Jacob Hobbs; doing the same tasks at the same times of day. 

No, this was in sync, unable to leave each other’s spaces at all.

Will sat, listening to Hannibal rummage in the kitchen. In Hannibal’s parlance, he probably wasn’t rummaging; being artful and full of grace more likely. Will snorted trying to picture Hannibal trying to be graceful in a kitchen full of dogs. 

It didn’t work. Much. 

Will never did have to fear for his dogs in Hannibal’s presence; they weren’t so much as beneath his world view, as an extension of Will, and therefore protected.

Protected. Not a word many would associate with Hannibal, but somehow Will could. Hannibal absolutely didn’t have to get him out of prison, and yet he did. Just because it wasn’t as fun with Will incarcerated: pulling the strings of FBI, janking Jack’s chail, playing with his food.

“I made you a gift.” Will said. He turned in the chair, looking towards where the kitchen was, sure that Hannibal heard him.

All those fears, the horror and revulsion at taking a life, and yet he couldn’t stop himself after they were dead.

If Randall was a beginners painting by numbers, then Chiyoh’s prisoner was an offering. A student coming up to a master, with a portfolio of tries. 

Try. Try again: Will’s inner voice said, chuckling at the end. And Will knew, he would try again. Whether it was he who killed, or someone else, having a taste of what he could create—how he could elevate them in death—it was damn tempting. 

If Hannibal would take control of this, Will knew what would happen: Murder Husbands On The Loose In Europe, The Continent In Terror. With Freddie Lounds leading the scribe’s charge. 

Control must stay with Will. He knew that not even he could deter Hannibal from squashing the rude, but hopefully he could at least curb that drive. Could reroute it. Towards those deserving of such wrath. Will knew Hannibal would scorn such vigilantism, but Will had no interest in snuffing out innocent lives.

The noises in the kitchen stopped with Hannibal appearing in the doorway. “I presume it was breathtaking.”

“A creature made into light, brought into reality.” 

If Hannibal would ever lower himself to gasp, he probably would. In Will’s imagination he did. 

“It was made with you in mind, but while—in the process it became something for myself. A—pure creation if you would.” Remembering the feel of the coarse rope in his hand, pulling it, elevating Chiyoh’s prisoner, putting him on display. Will was sure that no one in the near future would find his crime scene.

“You are finding your own feet, the path you want to take forward. All I can hope is to share that space with you.” Hannibal had been in the doorway, but now came forward, taking a chair at an angle to Will, looking intently at him.

In another timeline it would end with blood, and with Mason Verger’s hired goons intruding. But now, today, their exit from the gallery was silent. Will was sure Chiyoh was somewhere near; fearing what Will would to with all the violence he has. On some days it seems like the only way to reach Hannibal, but on others .. well, Will hopes to see those other days.

Will looked over, taking in the look on Hannibal’s face; nodded, skipping on answering aloud.

~~

Jack never caught up to them. 

Not an hour later Will was sitting in another train, this one headed south, towards Rome. A larger city to get lost in. With the countryside slipping past them, Will breathed a sigh of relief. Skipping town was the most optimal of outcomes—both Jack and Verger’s hired men were still alive and breathing, and not yet aware of their location.

Jack would sooner rather than later find Will’s phone at the apartment, lying there on the table, not even powered down; as if left for just a moment, while the owner had gone to the kitchen. 

Will was on his way toward a completely different kitchen; this one set in an apartment in Rome. It seemed that the Murder Husband’s trip across Europe wouldn’t end so soon after all. And as soon as the FBI realized that Will had left willingly, all hell would break loose. 

So he supposed, that they should do the sightseeing first thing.

“Is there anyone in Rome you wish to kill?” Better to be blunt than dancing around this subject.

“I’m rather waiting on what you wish to do, dear Will.” Hannibal gave him an indulgent smile across the little table separating them. 

It brought to memory so many times they were sitting on opposite sides—the office, across a courtroom, over an interrogation table, with Randall’s corpse on the Hannibal’s dining room table. 

Will thought that this trip will either bring them closer, sitting next to each other—leaning on one another—or the more likely scenario: with a set of steel bars separating them. He couldn’t even fathom whether those were cells next to each other, or the hallway looking into a room bare of all things. 

He owed Hannibal a stint in prison didn’t he?

“I think we should see where the situation takes us.” While he didn’t have his phone with a multitude of contacts in it—even a professor trying to hide away from the world couldn’t get away from others attempts at networking—he still had access to databases. 

And those, oh, those contained a number of people far more deserving Hannibal’s wrath.

~~

Rome was as pretty as it was full of people. Hannibal was quick to get them a taxi and take them away from the crowd at the Termini central station, along narrow streets. Cars smaller than he was used to on the wide American roads, but here they fit in. Numerous motorbikes overtaking them on the road heedless of road rules. It was a chaos made real on these streets, but somehow so much less rude than New York.

The ride was short, with the taxi pulling up next to a white stucco building among similar ones making up a row along the street, with a park on the other side of the street. Will saw wild roses and tangerine trees along with platanas and palm trees. Kids shrieking, running around a water fountain, splashing each other.

There was a mangy cat sitting next to the gate leading into the park. It yawned and for a moment it looked so much fiercer than a lazy cat enjoying summer-warm tiles. Will could relate to that, he knew that he too didn’t look fierce, more pathetic really. It really wasn’t cause to dislike animal just because it hid those teeth and sharp claws and bloodthirst under a fluffy coat. 

He dubbed the cat Raptor, and turned his back on it, to follow Hannibal into the building. He was ahead already, standing by the entrance, conversing with someone in italian. 

Will was suddenly tired. Falling off a train left an impression and sleeping for a week sounded like the best idea ever. He knew that if Hannibal didn’t call undue attention to them he could even have his wish.

Coming up to the two, he nodded to the local man, focusing on Hannibal, with an eyebrow raised asking what they were talking about.

“Anthony, this is monsieur Catali, he is the realtor for the property.” Will knew very well the need for fake names in their situation, but didn’t appreciate being called as a dead man; even if made into a heart and left for him to find and see and admire. He was still someone else; someone Hannibal had fixed on while Will was unavailable.

“Hello.” Will suddenly wished for a pair of sunglasses to hide behind.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, it’s not often American’s speak such good italian! I’m impressed, you have a fine husband, mister Anthony.”

“Ah,” and here he has to take a pause, because apparently Hannibal was still an avid reader of Freddy Lounds, and he could not stop the glare directed at Hannibal. “Yes, he is that.” Holding eye contact with Hannibal has never caused him irritation of anxiety. 

As soon as he did so for the very first time, from the moment they looked at each other: he had never turned away. If this were a world with soulmates, who connect just with eye contact alone, he would have known that Hannibal was the one, since that first day in Jack’s office. 

~~


	2. All Along You Want It Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumping everything on the bed, Will took a step to the balcony doors and swung them open. The wood creaked and didn’t want to stay open, so he propped the door with a chair. The entire building had air of neglect—as if Hannibal chose this for Will, a project to work on, a place that was so much closer to Wolf Trap than a residence in Baltimore wrapped in splendor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at that, another chapter today! <3

~~

Moving in without luggage was incredibly quick; and an hour later Will wasn’t at all surprised when Hannibal suggested a shopping trip. Since his one and only plan had been to take a nap, all Will did was sigh and pulled the blanket over his head, murmuring that Hannibal can pick things for him as much as he wants.

Will had walked the entire building when they first got there, scoping out the two little balconies—one of which is about a jump away from the roof of the next building—both with several potted plants, the attic with the broken skylight window, where someone had put a bit of plastic over to fix it, all the bedrooms, stopping for a longer bit at a library. 

Walls from the floor to almost the ceiling covered in bookshelves, not all of them organized, but at the time the shelves full enough to satisfy any reader. And books weren’t all written in italian, there was a large number written in english and other languages too. He counted five different versions of Divine Comedy alone, two of those in differing hieroglyphs and one in russian.

The entire building was furnished, and Will counted at least four instances where Hannibal was eyeing a chair of a table or a lamp with a look of great contempt. All Will needed was a roof over his head and a place to sleep, so he let Hannibal start on any remodelling he wanted.

He had picked the biggest bedroom of the available, with one of the two balconies, overlooking the park. If he turned his head on the pillow and looked out through the balcony railing, he swore he could see a little four legged shadow move through the open gate of the park. Raptor the cat was on a hunt it seemed. 

Adorable yet murderous.

Probably something Hannibal would say about him too.

~~

Hannibal returned laden with shopping bags, roping the taxi driver to help him carry everything in, probably chatting about more places to shop in. Italian wasn’t a language Will knew, but if they were here long term, he could learn. 

One never knew how life would turn.

They might stay here for years if they were cautious, or they could be found by Jack or Verger’s men in two days time.

Will had found a kettle and a forgotten box of tea in one of the cupboards, and greeted Hannibal from the kitchen when he returned, eyeing the bags. For some their final destination was on the counter behind him, while others ended up on the couch in the living room.

Hannibal stopped to stare at the living room lamp with a perfectly constipated look, making Will snort and shrug, sharing a smile with the cabbie. To him they looked like a harmless couple, or a pair of friends, as if arguments about interior decorating was the norm.

When they were finally alone, Will asked, “Was it a good hunt?”

“Adequate for starts.” Hannibal replied, turning away from the lamp and the bags, looking Will up and down, stopping at the chipped mug in his hands, his nostrils flaring, no doubt finding the stale tea offensive. 

Will smiled to himself, then turned around and stepped back into the kitchen. He knew come morning the stale tea would be somewhere in the trash, replaced with a far better brand. 

There was parsley and salad leaves sticking out of one of the shopping bags. Putting his mug down, Will started to pull everything out, arranging it on the counter. He had wiped both counter and the work areas down while water was boiling for his tea.

“What do you intend to make?” Will asked, when Hannibal stopped right behind him. He could sense him breathing him in, almost scenting, and smiled. It seemed it wasn’t him alone who imagined their relationship escalating further then. 

Water had been turned on, as well as electricity in the building and Will absolutely enjoyed a hot shower after the midday nap while Hannibal had been out shopping. He enjoyed a lot less having to put on the same clothes; Chiyoh had neglected to collect his bag from the train.

Hannibal leaned a bit closer still and left a kiss on his nape. Will sighed and closed his eyes, enjoying the unspoken connection. His choice in the biggest bedroom with the largest bed was a good decision then.

“Let it be a surprise.”

Hands wrapped around Will, encasing him in safety. He hummed in reply, “Meaning I should clear out of the kitchen and go rummage in the bags in the living room?”

“Perceptive.”

With a laugh, something perhaps closer to a giggle, Will left the kitchen. 

~~

Clothes and toiletries, including a fancy shampoo and body wash were hidden in the bags. Will grabbed them all and carried the haul to the third floor of the building, where his chosen bedroom was located.

Dumping everything on the bed, he took a step to the balcony doors and swung them open. The wood creaked and didn’t want to stay open, so he propped the door with a chair. The entire building had air of neglect—as if Hannibal chose this for Will, a project to work on, a place that was so much closer to Wolf Trap than a residence in Baltimore wrapped in splendor. 

Or perhaps Hannibal learned from his mistakes of opulent living in Florence that lead Will to him.

Wait. 

Hannibal did make it incredibly easy to finding him. Huh. Will felt a smile creep onto his face until a chuckle escaped him. “Well, I guess I wasn’t the only one pining.” He saw the same cat across the street, now sitting on one of the gate posts, licking a paw.

Still smiling, he started on unpacking the shopping. Toiletries found a spot in the bathroom—not just shampoo, shower gel and shaving cream, but a bunch more, most of which Will could just squint at and shrug. He himself didn’t need that much, but he was sure that Hannibal would show & tell if he asked. Leaving it all in a pile, he returned to the clothes. 

Among shirts and suits, were also more casual wear, again with Will in mind. He smirked at the fancy looking underwear Hannibal had picked and shut it all into a drawer together with socks. Everything somehow got mixed together—things clearly bought with Will in mind and Hannibal’s own found themselves on hangers and shelves in the closet. 

Finally he unpacked a cell phone: the same model he had before. There was a sticky note with a phone number on the packaging. Will was sure that Hannibal downstairs had the one that matched the number.

Powering it on, he ran through the settings with an old email address he had but hadn’t used in a long while, before putting it aside and taking a step out to the balcony. Lifting his hands, Will stretched, trying to get the stiffness out of his limbs, flinching at the aches and pains still there from face planting on the train tracks two days ago. There were fewer kids in the park in the early evening, though some did notice him and pointed at him before imitating the stretching. 

Smiling, Will waved at them and went back inside. 

~~

When Hannibal came upstairs looking for him, Will was lounging on the balcony with a book in his hand. Hannibal stopped at the phone on the bedside table, with the sticky note right next to it and looked up at Will, with that little smile of his at the corner of the mouth.

Will smiled back, with a little nod—yes, he did input Hannibal’s number on it. The wordless conversation done, he appreciated how Hannibal was moving in the room; fluidly and with a purpose, even if that was just to pick clothes for the evening. 

He did see Hannibal frowning at Will’s organizing in the closet. Smiling to himself, he waited for a comment, but no luck.

“Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

“Alright.” Will leaned back in the chair, one finger still marking his space in the book. He followed Hannibal with a look, as he selected a shirt and trousers for dinner. 

Will had actually been surprised at the lack of ties in the shopping bags, but then he found a whole bunch of silk handkerchiefs in various colours, at least four of which were decorated in paisley.

Will kept reading ahead while Hannibal was showering, idly imagining him in there with him—showering together. Distracting Hannibal from starting dinner on time seemed both like an insult and the best possible thing he might attempt.

He supposed, that on another day he would try that.

As soon as the shower stopped, Will got up, leaving the book on the chair, pages flipping in the summer wind. He quickly changed his trousers and t-shirt before picking one of Hannibal’s summer shirts to wear over it. 

His imagination was on point, but the surprise and the smile still looked better on Hannibal’s face in reality.

He could get used to surprising him like this. “Shall we?”

~~


	3. I Don't Want To Let You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I bow before a master of crime scenes, though." Will snickered, finally putting the fork down. A moment for contemplation, of stringing up Hannibal instead: hands pulled back, taut with coarse rope, on his knees with a leather collar around his neck, supplicating in form—if not the spirit, that being forever defiant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's smut time!

~~

Dinner was delicious and Will didn’t hesitate to say so, smiling at Hannibal over a glass of wine. 

Hannibal was coming up with plans and things to see in the city, listing one after another what they definitely needed to see in Rome. Will nodded and hummed along, playing with his fork; contemplating how it would look stuck through someone’s hand. Or several, spaced out along the spine. He knew the thoughts were morbid enough to shock his past self into revulsion and probably puking up the dinner. Now? After all he had seen and done since then, he felt faint amusement and intrigue as to how much a human body could take.

Something must have showed on his face because Hannibal had stopped talking; when did he do that? Will had been stuck in his imagination. Looking down, he moved the fork back and forth and then looked back up, “Just thinking. Have you ever, in those murders that aren’t in police files, tried something like this?” 

He lifted the fork in the air, looking through the tines at Hannibal.

"Or is a kitchen implement too crude?" Will twirled said fork in his hand, looking at the light reflected in the metal. Or was it silver? Frowning at it, Will lowered it a bit, waiting for Hannibal to answer.

"I am sure that you would do it better than me." There was a gleam in Hannibal's eye. A predator looking at a potential hunting partner. Someone to kill with; and eat the prey together.

Will can imagine Hannibal putting together the story knowing what happened with Chiyoh's prisoner and extrapolating from Randall's corpse. Being well aware of his Mind Palace, Will inclined his head, agreeing with whatever vision Hannibal had created there. It was most assuredly accurate.

"I bow before a master of crime scenes, though." Will snickered, finally putting the fork down. A moment for contemplation, of stringing up Hannibal instead: hands pulled back, taut with coarse rope, on his knees with a leather collar around his neck, supplicating in form—if not the spirit, that being forever defiant.

"I'm sure you can get ahead of me in the art." Hannibal raised his own fork—licked clean—with a considering look in his eyes. 

Will sighed, imagining what Hannibal was imagining. There was a guarantee of a bloodied Will, tearing and ripping and pushing onto a form that used to be human to fit the vision in his mind.

Taking another bite, Will tilted his head sideways holding eye contact as he swallowed whatever delicious wonder was on the fork, biting down on the tines.

The widening of Hannibal's pupils at that was undeniable.

~~

Hannibal pushed him onto the bed, "Stay." Taking a step back, he slowly stripped for Will.

The pretty silk handkerchief didn't end up back in the drawer, oh no—that was tossed towards Will, enticing him to how Hannibal smelled; showing him that Will too will be wrecked.

Shoes and put aside, crudely toed off, as if even the great and meticulous Hannibal was in a hurry; followed by the shirt. Hannibal stopped to give Will a slight smile as he folded it, showing how his hands were running over the garment, letting Will imagine them on his skin. Gentle yet firm, teasing and finding that exact place to pinch and slap.

Down to an undershirt and suit pants. The incredibly languid speed with which Hannibal opened the button and the zipper were torture for Will. He released a little moan, spreading his own legs open, showing off the bulge in the light pants, a wet spot spreading on them already. Hands pulling at the bedding.

"Patience." Hannibal murmured before leaning over Will. "Eager." Reaching for Will's pants Hannibal squeezed at the bulge, causing him to gasp and moan once more. "Very eager."

Hannibal took a step back, to pull the undershirt over his head, leaving him only in the suit pants. 

Will let his eyes travel all over that skin on display—muscles and that lovely soft belly from all the wonderful food. Letting out a sigh, Will smiled up at Hannibal. "You look amazing. I really need you to fuck me." He bared his neck to Hannibal, showing his submission, imagining the teeth grazing his throat, biting down and blood pouring all over them both, a choked off scream.

"Don't you worry, dear Will. I intend to."

With the zipper finally lowered, Will had to blink several times—apparently their dinner didn't require any underwear after all. Huffing out a laugh, Will reached out to Hannibal with one hand, "Come here."

"Mm, enticing, but how about you ..." Hannibal pushed the pants down, until they were at his knees. ".. come over here and help me instead." 

Will sharply inhaled, "Yeah," and quickly slid off the bed to kneel at Hannibal's feet, “Yeah, that’s a—good idea”. He looked up, then leaned closer to kiss at Hannibal's cock. "Beautiful." Leaving another soft kiss, he licked at the precome gathered there.

Will couldn't stop the smirk at Hannibal's gasp, it was too precious a noise to ignore.

For a moment he considered how many people in the world had heard that noise in Hannibal's long life, but then dismissed it—after all he was here and now, and with Hannibal who was all his now. He had the suspicion that he was the only person in existence that saw all of Hannibal and was still kneeling before him with desire in the eyes.

Finally done with the suit pants, Will showed them away; no thought to folding them, not when he had a cock right in front of his face, begging to be sucked. "Mmm."

Will licked along the sides, before giving another kiss to the cockhead. Taking a breath, Will closed his eyes, imagining what Hannibal could smell if their positions were reversed. Moaning aloud, Will reached down to squeeze at his own cock and simultaneously swallowing down Hannibal's.

"Wonderful." Along with another gasp from Hannibal.

A moment later a hand was pulling at Will's hair, making him let out a groan and to swallow Hannibal deeper. Moaning around the cock in his mouth, Will hummed causing Hannibal to gasp once more and push even deeper, for a moment touching upon Will's throat.

It may have been some time since Will last done it, but it wasn't something one could easily forget. Swallowing down, Will took Hannibal to the root, then glancing up and smirking at the look on his face. 

Hannibal looked honestly wrecked. Probably didn't even expect Will could do this, could deepthroat without choking. 

Pulling back, Will gave another kiss to the tip of the cock and leaned against the bed. "I like that look on your face. Rapturous, filled with lust. Naked want."

Will made himself busy with shirt buttons and shucking the garment off as soon as he was done. 

He held eye contact with Hannibal, getting gradually more naked himself. The moment Will touched the zipper of his own slacks, Hannibal snapped forward—pulling Will up and sitting him on the edge of the bed.

Changing their places, as Hannibal got on his knees before him.

Hands on Wills thighs, pulling them open, framing them on both sides, with Will's cock trapped in the slacks. Hannibal leaned forward, audibly inhaling.

Smelling Will, learning his scent.

Letting out a moan, Will got a hand in between them and pulled the zipper down. Getting the pants down his legs was challenging with Hannibal crowding him, but in the end he persevered. 

Now all that separated them was the thin cotton briefs Will was wearing. It was one of the newly bought pairs, far more fancy than the boxer shorts he was used to. And a bit loose on Will—definitely bought for Hannibal's size.

This time the gasp Hannibal let out verged on the groan territory. 

"Mm, I like how possesive you get." Will sighed, leaning back. He spread his legs a bit more, nudging his crotch into Hannibal's face, "How do I smell?"

"A perfect blend of blood and wet leaves, like autumn and forrest full of fir trees." Hannibal moved forward, pulling down the waistband on the briefs, releasing Wil's cock. “So very enticing.”

"Ah, Hannibal!" Will fell backwards, staring at the ceiling. Light from street lamps and the rare passing car. But it was missing something.

Hmm.

"Oh, Hannibal, we should hang a mirror above the bed." Will could already imagine them, how they looked from above, entwined and taken by each other.

"An exhibitionist?" Hannibal asked with what sounded a lot like a purr in his voice. A moment later he was pulling Will's briefs down and moving them both up the bed.

"Lets just say, that I wasn't always a recluse with numerous dogs in the forest. The college days were positively .. sinful." Will grunted at repositioning, but at least got a pillow under his head now.

"You are absolutely sinful right now as well, dear Will." One of his hands was tracing along the scar on the abdomen.

"I should really repay you for that. I had a plan and everything. But then I got to the gallery and saw you—and all the plans evaporated. Only you have that power. To derail all that I'm trying to achieve."

"You hold that power too, Will." Hannibal leaned over him, placing one hand next to Will's head running fingers along the ear. "Chiyoh was ready to guard my life against your advances."

"Hm. I suppose getting pushed out of a moving train wasn't enough for her." Will smirked, turning his head to kiss at Hannibal's fingers.

"She is protective of me." Hannibal looked awed, playing with his fingers, fucking Will's mouth with them.

"How about you find some lube and kiss me on the mouth." Will said, finally releasing the fingers, but not before giving them a little parting kiss.

~~

One of the fancy bottles Will had put in the bathroom was apparently lube. He laughed softly when Hannibal retrieved it.

Spreading his legs, Will got a pillow to put under his butt. Better access to the place he wanted Hannibal, where he craved Hannibal to have him—to pull him open and then fill him up.

If he could, he would hold Hannibal in him all night.

"Come here and kiss me." 

"Gladly." Hannibal was looking at him, eyes flitting from Will's face to the scar to his cock to all of him laid out and ready and aroused.

Lube ended up somewhere on the bed and Hannibal on top of him, pushing Will more firmly into the bedding, rutting against him.

A second, two and then they were kissing. Lips touching and tongues exploring one another's mouth, chasing after the taste of their being. 

Will knew that Hannibal could taste himself faintly. If he had come down Will's throat, the taste would undeniably be far stronger than it was now.

Putting his hands around Hannibal, Will pulled him closer, rutting upwards, smearing precome all over where their skin met.

"Fuck me."

"Greedy."

Will chuckled, "Hungry for you."

Hannibal huffed, sitting up. One of his hands had found Will's hole and was softly stroking over it. A moment later the other one joined in, now lubed up. Fingers pushing in, getting him open.

Will sighed, spreading his legs as much as he could, pushing his hands backwards, trying to reach up to the headboard. As soon as his palm connected to the decorative iron bars he gripped them close. 

They were definitely strong enough to tie someone to them. Whether it will be him or Hannibal first, only time will tell.

Because Will definitely planned to have Hannibal beneath him, writhing on his cock any day now.

Moaning aloud, Will clenched down on the two fingers Hannibal had worked into him. "Ngh, more."

Will was enjoying the penetration and the stretch too much to ever deny himself. Moving the hips, he tried fucking himself on those two fingers until they hit his prostate.

Shivering from pleasure, "Oh, Hannibal—perfect."

Another finger, and then, oh that was a kiss. And tongue, helping the fingers to get him open, and Will couldn't hold in the keening whimper. "Ah aaah, oh—yeah."

"Wonderful noises, Will. All for me." Hannibal was breathless. And if Will had looked where Hannibal was sitting on the bed, he definitely would have smirked—there was bed humping going on, very teenage-like. As if Will was so hot, Hannibal was unable to stop his urge to rut.

"Mm, yes. C'mon, fuck me. I want you to get in me, to be a part of me forever. I always want to have this memory. You and me, and you in me."

Another gasp, and Hannibal was sliding in him. One thrust and he was bottomed out—Will almost choked on air. He was so damn full, clenching down on Hannibal's cock. It felt bigger than in his mouth, and Will could positively say that is was the best cock to ever fuck him.

The emotional attachment to Hannibal just made it all the better. 

Sighing, Will, moved in place—fucking himself down on Hannibal's cock, as much as he could from the position he was in.

He didn't have to wait long to have Hannibal respond to that; to take over the control. Bed was once place where Will gladly gave over all of him to Hannibal to have his way with him. To dominate and make him submit.

Hannibal leaned forwards and started hard and precise and perfectly placed thrusts, getting keening moans and choked off groans out of Will.

Will held onto the headboard will all of his might. The bed was rocking and definitely a part of it was slamming against the wall. Letting go of the headboard in fear of his fingers Will needed a new anchor.

A moment later one of his hands ended up in Hannibal's hair, while the other round his neck, pulling him closer. "Fuck, Hannibal, you—aaaah—you feel perfect."

"And the same to you, dear Will." Their lips met in another kiss. And this time it was Will who could swear that he could taste himself on Hannibal's lips. 

A spike of arousal travelled down, blood rushing even more to his cock, and Will was panting into Hannibal's cheek. A kiss and a bite to his throat and Will shivered; a precise hit to his prostate and another bite, this one deeper, with an edge of pain and he came.

"Oh, Hann—oh, perfect, you are perfect—nghh." Will was clenching down on Hannibal's cock prolonging his own orgasm, breathing harshly. Milking Hannibal, trying to get him to come; to fill Will up to the brim, full of hot come. Trying them together.

Hannibal groaned above him, licking at the bite, at the blood on Will's neck—at the wound he inflicted—and he came, pulsing into Will. Fucking the come back inside, slowly stilling above him. Hannibal sighed and finally pulled out—but not going anywhere far. There were two fingers at Will's hole, rubbing the come in his skin.

Will had to smother a giggle when Hannibal gathered some of his come from where it had smeared all over his abdomen and mixed their both ejaculate together, filling Will back up. 

So nothing would be lost, so Will always remember this moment: them intertwined, them together.

~~


End file.
